


Interlude

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-12
Updated: 2007-02-12
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ‘Falling Towards Apotheosis’ gapfiller, written in 3 parts. One of my earliest attempts at fanfiction. </p><p>Broad Unnecessary Hint: the 'he' and 'she'  in the first two parts are John Sheridan and Delenn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

 

**Part I**

 

She sat, quietly, without moving, on the couch in his quarters. She had turned down the lights, the better to assist her efforts at calming her thoughts. Those thoughts circled around and around in her mind, mimicking the motion of her hands as she twisted the ring he had given her around and around the fourth finger of her left hand.

 

After he given her the ring, and placed it on her finger; after their impassioned embrace, there had come the inevitable call of duty. He had not wanted to leave her, but she had insisted, saying she would wait for him here, for as long as she could. In a way, she was relieved he had left, giving her time to at least begin to absorb what had happened, and what he had told her, and what it would mean to her, and to their future lives.

 

The ring was a symbol, and a potent one to her. It was part of a human tradition he was asking her to follow, as she had asked him to follow hers so many times. It had occurred to her that this was in some measure unfair; expecting him to adapt to and accept her ways almost exclusively. That made the gift of the ring even more precious; since it was obviously so important to him.

 

It seemed the ring was the symbol of a promise given, a foretelling of the greater promises to come. She had found it interesting when he told her that while a second set of rings were exchanged in the formal ceremony, the first ring was only given by the male to the female. She had asked why that was, and he had laughed and said, perhaps the male was assumed to be more capable of duplicity, and thus a token was required of him. She didn’t like that explanation, but accepted it until she could investigate further.

 

She sighed at her restless mind, still circling and shying away from what had come before the kisses and the promises and the ring. She had to focus, and confront what he had told her; what they had told her. She felt a flash of anger. It was unfair of him to have Lorien present. He should have told her in private. Her shock and dismay should not have been on view, even by the First One, who had undoubtedly seen it all before in his vastly long life. The part of her that was not frozen and fearful had wanted to rail at him and scream, but could not with another present. And then he had short-circuited her emotions with the presentation of the ring. He had told her once that she did not fight fair; obviously he had learned from her methods.

 

Twenty years. The words tolled in her mind like a death knell, as indeed they were. To have lost him at Z’ha’dhum would have been tragic beyond measure. He was the other half of her soul. They were linked at a deeper level than most could understand, and it would have left her bereft. But to lose him after years of intimacy, after a shared life, after an ever-deepening love had developed; she wondered if would be possible to survive that. She sighed; there was no other choice. It was not possible for her to deny her love and walk away at this point. She decided that not taking the chance, and not risking the pain, would be worse than anything she might experience at the end of their time together. The thought that she might very well be wrong briefly touched her mind, but she turned away from it.

 

She began to consider those twenty years. If they survived the coming conflicts-- the Great War, and afterwards, the liberation of Earth; they would make a life together. The plans they had discussed of continuing the Alliance into the future might come to fruition. Aside from the practical considerations of where they might live, and what work they might do, she wondered how could she make a life, give him the love he so deserved, with the knowledge of what lay ahead. She would face years and years alone once he had passed beyond the Rim. She would have to keep those thoughts and fears in the background, and live life as if she had no awareness of his fate, keeping only the lesson of the importance of each moment in the front of her mind.

 

Her thoughts jumped back to the present. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would be left alone. There were matters that demanded her attention, and people would be looking for her soon. After a life spent in service, she was tired of putting everyone else’s needs first. She needed to think this through, and she needed time alone to do that. This was time she would undoubtedly not be given, not at this juncture. She sighed again, then smiled slightly. John would be back soon, hopefully. Somehow she suspected his presence would alleviate most of her concerns. He had a marvelous way of crystallizing her feelings when he was nearby, even when others were present. Her thoughts and speech could go on in a logical and reasonable manner, while her emotional attention was fixed like a lodestone on him. She was aware of him in a way she couldn’t explain. It was like a constant tug on her attention, a subtle gravitational pull. When he came close to her, or touched her, even in passing; her response varied from a subtle awareness of him to an electrical charge between them. And when they were alone, those feelings flared to a brilliant heat, almost frightening in its intensity.

 

So, twenty years, she mused. Less if accident, illness, or violence intervened; as both Lorien and John had pointed out could happen with or without the twenty year limit. Knowing their life together had a set end could poison their lives with fear and apprehension. Those feelings might eventually turn to resentment or bitterness. It could alternatively enrich their lives, making them treasure each passing moment as a gift from the Universe. John had told her of the Sheridan family motto: Love without reservation, fight without fear. That is what he would do; it was part of what he was. In the last years, she had changed, and in more than physical appearance. Her work in ending the Earth-Minbari war, her transformation, her steadfast belief in the prophecies, her growing feelings for John; all had put her at odds with her society, its rituals and traditional ways.

She smiled, it was decided. Like Jeff Sinclair the last time she had seen him in this life, she would have no hesitation and no doubt. She would be like 'the arrow springing from the bow'. Just then, the door chimed. “Open,” she said, looking towards her future.

 

**Part II**

 

He left Command and Control in the capable hands of his second. She could handle the fallout from the refugee problems. She could have handled it all without him, he supposed, but sometimes it was necessary to put in the face time. People expected him to deal with their issues, never stopping to think that he had problems of his own. He decided to take a short detour, and walk in the gardens briefly before returning to his quarters, where one of his problems awaited his return.

 

That wasn’t really true, he thought. The woman awaiting his return was not the problem. She was the solution, if she could find it within herself to be. She had never failed him yet, but this time he was asking a lot. It was important to him that she make the decision as freely as possible. Her impulse was always to sacrifice herself for others. This time, though, he wanted to her to consider what would be best for herself. He cursed again the cowardly impulse that had led him to have Lorien break the news to her. He had told himself she wouldn’t believe him without the First One’s backing up his story, but that wasn’t really the reason. He just couldn’t tell her. At first he’d assumed-- hell, maybe hoped--that he wouldn’t make it through the war. Then she would never have to know. He would never have to face her reaction. He hadn’t even been able to meet her eyes when Lorien told her. What kind of a man did that make him?

 

He’d hoped having someone else in the room would make it easier. Easier on him, he thought in disgust. He knew she’d never break down in front of a stranger, so she couldn’t even cry. She found it hard enough to let go of her iron control when it was just him around. He sighed, sometimes he couldn’t get anything right. He’d proposed to her on top of everything, because he’d wanted her to know that his feelings hadn’t changed, and proposing was the only way he could think of to show that. He hoped she’d never heard the part of the human marriage ceremony that included ‘till death you do part.’ That would be like rubbing salt in the wound. He groaned softly; as usual when it came to relationships, his impulses were good, but his execution was lousy.

 

He started to walk faster as he considered what she might decide to do. She might be angry; at fate, or at him, either for how he had told her, or for his going in the first place. She might decide it would be too painful to pursue their relationship. His heart almost stopped at the thought. No, she wouldn’t do that. More likely she’d decide to take on a lifetime of pain to give him twenty years of happiness. His fists clenched, was it even fair to ask this of her? And yet, he wanted it, wanted her, more than anything else in life. He knew, deep in his heart, that she felt the same. What would cause more pain, taking their twenty years together, or giving each other up? He’d made his choice, now he had to await hers.

 

She might be resigned or stoic. He’d hate that, he loved the fiery spirit that lay beneath her cool, calm exterior. If his actions put out that flame, he would never forgive himself. She might feel guilty. He slowed his pace, and rubbed his aching temples. Earlier she come to his quarters, begging forgiveness for not telling him about Anna, for not trusting him to make his own decision. Now that she knew what that decision had cost him, that guilt might come roaring back, stronger than before. He’d forgiven her, but he suspected she might never forgive herself. He didn’t want her marrying him as penance, but because she wanted him as much as he wanted and needed her.

 

He started walking again, and considered that she, along with Kosh, did bear some responsibility. He’d never know how much their secretiveness surrounding Anna’s fate influenced his decision to go to Z’ha’dhum. He’d told Delenn in his message that he’d hoped to forestall the destruction of Centauri Prime. But that wasn’t his primary motive. In fact, he probably told her that just to make her feel better about his going. He’d thought a lot about his reasons on the flight there, as he’d played along with that creature that had once been his wife. He had been angry, blazingly angry, with Delenn and with Kosh, and with himself. They had deliberately misled him. He’d suspected, when he had Morden in his custody, that Anna might be alive. He shouldn’t have let it go, no matter what anyone said. Looking back at that conversation, he could now see the hesitation, the evasions, in their explanations. At the time, he had been overcome by his fears and hopes for Anna, his distrust of Morden, the frightening revelation of the enemy they would all have to face. He’d missed a lot of nuance. He’d never been very good with nuance.

 

Also, he had to admit, one reason he had pushed Morden so hard to confirm or deny Anna’s death is that part of him wanted to move on. The process had started when Lizzie gave him that message from Anna, her last before leaving on the Icarus. He’d carried a lot of guilt around from their last conversation. After letting that go, he found he wanted to start living again. Then Delenn walked into his life. For the first time since he’d gotten the news of Anna’s death, he wanted to feel free to offer someone his heart.

 

And now he had. He stopped in his tracks as he realized how true that was. She literally held his heart in her hands. If she turned away from him, he would continue the war against the Shadows. If he survived that, he would do his best to liberate Earth. He would do his duty. He would exist for twenty more years, but he would cease to live the moment she walked out of his life. Straightening his shoulders, he decided it was time to find out his fate. He headed for the exit from the garden. He would face his future like the soldier he was, and not give up hope. Because, sometimes, hope is all we have.

 

**Part III**

 

He stood outside the door to his quarters, hesitating for a moment to open it. It was quite late. If she was still there, she might be meditating, or asleep—perhaps he should ring first and give her some warning. Aw hell, he thought as he ran his hand through his cropped hair; he was just putting off what he feared would be an emotional and possibly tearful discussion of what she had learned today. She probably hadn't stayed anyway; she had responsibilities, duties to fulfill. She had probably been called away hours ago. Still, he hit the door chime to let her know he was back.

 

“Open” he heard through the doorway as the door slid open. She was still there. He could sense her presence, but couldn’t see her at first. The room was dim, only a few lights were on, and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust. She was sitting on the couch, in about the same position she had taken as he left, upright, with her hands loosely clasped in her lap. He couldn’t see her expression as he stepped inside, and the door closed behind him.

 

“I was afraid you would have left by now,” he said. “Can I put on some more lights? I can hardly see you.”

 

“Lights, low,” she replied. Her voice was low and melodious. It was one of the things he loved most about her; she was appealing to every sense he possessed. He sat down on the couch, facing her, uncertain where and how to begin.

 

She rose, and moved closer, her silk robe rustling, until she was standing over him. He had to look up at her, and she thought his expression was somewhat apprehensive. She smiled, wondering what he was expecting. Then she reached down, and touched his face, then his hair. “I have been thinking,” she said softly.

 

“You had a lot to think about. Have you reached any conclusions?” he replied.

 

She leaned over and gently pressed her lips to his, then breathed into his mouth, “I have decided I love you. I have decided I want you.” With that she slowly sat down beside him on the couch. She pressed her body close to his, wanting him to understand the depth of her desire. Caressing his face, her fingers ran gently along his firm and familiar jaw line. She reached up behind his head to run her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down towards her. She would never get tired of feeling the softness of human hair. Her lips sought his again, and she felt, rather than heard, a soft moan from his throat. She let one hand slip down to his chest, reaching inside his jacket to feel the smoothness of his skin, overlaying the firm muscles underneath.

 

This was definitely not the reaction he had expected, but he wasn’t about to complain. He put all his passion for life, all his hopes for the future, however limited, all his longing for her into his return embrace. He pulled her closer, onto his lap, and his hands ran gently up and down her back, feeling the heat from her skin under the thin silk. After a long impassioned kiss, he pulled back, and said breathlessly, “I want to be sure I understand where this is going. Don’t we have a couple dozen more rituals to complete before we can, uh, go forward with this?”

 

She sat back on her heels, doubling her legs up under her on the couch, and smiled at him, "Yes, we do, if we are to do things properly, and according to tradition." She wondered a little at the hesitance in his voice. Perhaps he was not ready to proceed further with their joining. Maybe there was a waiting period after the engagement. She tried to reassure him, “I have thought about this for a long time,” she continued, “and I am certain.” Her voice caught a little as she continued, “And we have so little time…”

 

He noticed she had taken off her outer robe, and was dressed in a simple shimmering blue sheath, long-sleeved and open at the throat, which clung to her in all the right places. She had taken off her shoes as well, and looked relaxed and at home--like she belonged there.

He ran his hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where she had ruffled it, and exhaled deeply. "Well, I’ve been thinking, too. I didn’t mean to pressure you today, giving you the ring I’d bought…I mean, just after you’d heard what Lorien had to say. That was unfair, and if you wanted to think about it, I’d understand..” his voice trailed off, and he looked at her with trepidation.

 

She laughed, softly, and he smiled back a little gingerly; her good humor must be a hopeful sign. He’d expected tears, maybe anger or resignation, not laughter and what must be described as a blatant attempt at seduction. He was beginning to think women were all unfathomable, regardless of species. He cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean it. I would understand if you’d changed your mind, given what you know now. I don’t want you to regret anything...later down the line.”

 

Feeling a little uncertain, she drew away from him slightly. “Are you having…regrets, then?” Unconsciously, she began twisting the ring on her finger.

 

“No!” he said loudly. She started at his tone of voice, and he continued more softly, “No, I don’t regret a moment I’ve spent with you. I only regret time spent apart from you. But now you know I’m not here for the long haul. I mean, it was always a possibility, I’m a soldier, and we’re at war after all, but the certainty of it…. it changes things. If it made you reconsider our relationship, I would understand.”

 

She began to feel confused, and a little frightened. “Did I not make my intentions clear to you when you came in? How can I ‘reconsider’ our relationship? It is what it is.” Her voice was rising uncontrollably, as she began to panic. She hadn’t anticipated rejection; whether he was trying to protect her, or whether he had changed his mind, and did not want to go forward. “I cannot unlove you because I have knowledge of your life span! I cannot pick apart the threads that bind us together! Are you saying you wish me to try?”

 

“No, of course not! I couldn’t stop loving you, even at the point of death. It was you, the thought of you, that brought me back. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to hurt you either.” He hid his face in his hands, unable to bear the pain in her face any more.

 

She reached out to brush his hair gently, in an attempt at comfort, then put her arms around him and laid her head next to his. “I believe we are, as you say, ‘stuck with each other’ then. Do not try to push me away, my love; that would hurt far worse than anything fate has in store for us. The Universe has directed our paths together for a reason.”

 

He lifted his head up, and found himself looking directly in to her eyes, “Are you sure, Delenn, really sure?”

 

She nodded, and said semi-sternly, “What would I have to do to convince you, John Sheridan?”

 

He gave her a crooked grin, and asked, “How many rituals were you planning to skip tonight?” She laughed in delight as he swept her into his arms. For now, for these two, there was only the present, an interlude between the past and the future. The Universe was speaking to them in a voice that only they could hear.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I posted in the No Shadows Fall commumity at LiveJournal, and I had to have the moderator's help in figuring out how to do it!


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